“Vike, when I have you near, I always feel safe. You’re calm and good under pressure; you're gonna be the perfect birthing partner.” She strokes her hand over mine.
“Damn straight I will. You and this little girl are gonna be in the safest of hands.” I move my other hand to rest on her sexy, round stomach, and when I get a tiny kick in response, we both laugh.
“I think she’s in agreement,” Alicia giggles, resting her head back against the couch and letting out a contented sigh of relief.
“So, did you talk to him?” Lettie questions as we both lay the table for dinner. I’ve had the best day with Rory. I took him to the park, and we read his favorite books in the sunshine. I told him a few stories of my own, about his daddy, and then we came home and made Saul’s favorite dinner.
“Not properly, but at least I know things are okay between us, and Ididask him to be my birthing partner.” I smile, hoping it will be enough to keep her off my back. Poor Lettie has had to listen to me complain about how awkward things have been between Vike and me for weeks, and I’ve been putting off taking her advice and doing something about it.
“I assume he said yes?” Lettie lifts Rory up off the floor where he’s playing and balances him on her hip.
“Of course, he did; you know Vike, he’d do anything for us.” I stroke my tummy and smile to myself. My little girl is lucky to have so many people care about her before she even gets here
“Which isexactlywhy you need to tell him how you feel,” Lettie scolds me. “You must see the way he looks at you, and he’s not slept with a single girl since he moved in here with you. Believe me, those bitches at the clubhouse have been trying,” she warns, placing Rory in his highchair at the table. “You need to get all this cleared up before the baby gets here.”
“Like I said, I did kinda speak to him yesterday at the club. I asked if things were okay with us, and he said they were fine. I don’t know if I’m being paranoid, but it just–”
“Doesn’tfeelfine.” She finishes my sentence for me and shoots those ‘told you so’ eyes at me. “Alicia, have you ever wondered if maybe you're confused as to what you want? You and Greaser have gotten close lately.”
“I explained this to the others; it’s not like that with us. Greaser is being a good uncle; he doesn’t have those kinds of feelings for me.”
“I disagree, and I also think that, deep down, you know it.” She crosses her arms, looking at me expectantly, and thankfully, the door opens, saving me from having to defend myself.
“Hey.” Vike looks happy to be home. “How's my favorite little man?” He heads straight to Rory and ruffles his hair. “You have fun with Aunt Alicia at the park today?” I feel the baby move, and smile to myself; she always becomes active when she hears Vike's voice.
“We had a great time, didn’t we, Rory?” I step closer to Vike, not for any other reason than wanting to be near him.
“Here, I got ya somethin’.” He places a gift bag down on the table in front of Rory, and when Lettie reaches in and pulls the gift out, my eyes prickle with tears as she hands it to her son.
“It’s one just like your daddy used to ride,” Vike explains as Rory starts to drag the toy motorbike across the table, making engine noises. “One day you're gonna ride that same bike, kid.” He ruffles his hair again and kisses his cheek, looking a little tearful himself as he straightens up. “I’m gonna go wash up for dinner; it smells great.” He smiles at me before marching off down the hall toward the bathroom, and Lettie looks up from the table with that same expectant face again.
“What?” I laugh defensively. “Tonight shouldn’t be about Vike and me; it’s about Saul.” I remind her quietly, getting back to laying the table.
“Talk to him. Tell him how you feel, before another woman realizes what a good guy he is. Trust me, Alicia, men like Vike and your brother don’t come around too often.” She heads to the oven to take out the meatloaf while I watch my nephew play with his new toy, and worry that she’s right.
“Who are you texting?” I ask Vike when he finally puts down his cell. I don’t know if I can believe what Lettie said about him not having sex since he moved in. He’s a red-blooded male with needs, and there are always opportunities at the club. I’ve seen the way the whores, who live in the motel, look at him.
"No one important.” He smiles at me, giving nothing away and making me wonder if it's one of them. “You look tired, you must have done too much today,” he tells me, lifting my feet onto his lap and undoing the laces on my Converse. Once he’s pulled them both off, he starts rubbing the soles of my feet, and I love how it feels to have him touch me.
“You know, if there was a girl you were talking to, or someone you were into, you could tell me.” I don’t know how to start the conversation we need to have, but I at least need to know there's no one else before I make a fool of myself again. What Lettie said got me thinking.
“Alicia, I ain’t talkin’ to no girl.” He laughs at me.
“But if you were, I wouldn’t want you to feel like you couldn–”
“What makes you feel like I wouldn’t tell you?” He pauses his thumbs from rubbing and frowns at me suspiciously.
“Nothing, I was just…” I have no words, just a whole lot of jealousy when I think of the way the girls at the club throw themselves at him. He’s handsome, charming, not to mention the fact that he’s got a body to die for, and all of them are full of the confidence I lack. “I just wanted you to know that you can talk to me about these kinds of things.” I lose any confidence I have when I think about how pathetic I’m being. We’ve been here. I even tried kissing the man. Why would Vike be interested in a woman who’s six months pregnant with another man's child, getting fatter by the day, and becoming more and more of a hormonal wreck? Vike doesn’t want me; he’s just doing what Vike does and taking care of me because my brother was his best friend.
“I can talk to you about anything,” he assures me, his voice turning soft. “In fact, I?—”
The door bursts open, and Greaser lets himself in, placing a bag of groceries on the table.
“How have my girls been today?” He comes straight over to me, placing his oil-stained palm on my stomach and leaving a smudge on the white t-shirt I’m wearing.
“We’re fine.” I drag my feet from Vike's lap so I can sit up properly. “There's some meatloaf left over if you want some?” I offer, hating the way Vike growls as his jaw tenses beside me. He never wanted to accept Greaser back into the club, and I feel his tension whenever they’re in the same room. I get he can’t get over the way Greaser’s acted in the past, but I refuse to be rude to a man who's doing so much to help me. I just hate being caught in the middle.
“Meatloaf sounds great; I haven’t had a chance to eat today.” Greaser grins as he takes a seat at the table.
